To Soothe A Soul
by Kristine Thorne
Summary: This is the sequel to No Man's Land, and is set after the episode of Holby City where Ric hit Zubin.


Disclaimer: All characters belong to the BBc. 

A/N: This follows directly on from the episode where Ric hit zubin. 

To Soothe A Soul

On the way back to her office after the board meeting, Connie saw Zubin coming towards her. He had a black eye that was bleeding, and looked as though some overdue retribution had finally been meted out on him. "I'll assume that was well deserved," She said mockingly as she walked up to him. "Give it a rest, Connie," Was his bitter reply. "What happened?" She asked turning to walk alongside him. "Did you finally decide it was time to start living up to your responsibilities?" "Just for once, Connie," Zubin said, turning furiously on her and halting her in her tracks. "Can't you keep your spiteful nose out of something that really isn't any of your business?" "Well, I am technically your boss, Professor Khan, so I'd say that any fighting between my staff was my business, wouldn't you?" "Not for much longer," Zubin said dismissively. "Well, there you and the board appear to differ," She said a little smugly. "Oh, you are joking?" He said, sounding truly appalled. "Not in the least," She told him sweetly. "Peter was the one last seen handing in his resignation, not yours truly." "This day just gets better and better." 

Leaving Zubin to stomp away in true, adolescent peevishness, Connie walked speculatively to her office. It was blatantly obvious just how Ric had reacted to the news of Zubin's involvement in Jess's pregnancy, but that wasn't really what she wanted to know. It was how he was dealing with it that bothered her. For someone like Ric, the natural instinct to a crisis would be to head for the nearest source of his addiction, in his case the casino. He hadn't gambled for nearly six months, and it would be terrible for him if he gave into it now. He would be putting himself right back to square one, and she simply couldn't let him do that. After checking on her patients, and making sure that there was nothing left that day which required her immediate attention, she checked to see if Ric was in his office, but he wasn't. It was mid evening by this time, as she had been covering the jobs of two people rather than one, a state of affairs that would continue until they found Will's replacement. Connie dreaded that day, but she knew that it had to happen some time. Thinking that she would drive over to see him on the off chance, Connie just hoped that she wasn't too late to stop him gambling. 

Ric went back to his flat almost without realising it. His thoughts were all over the place, the fury and the hurt coursing through his veins in equal amounts. How could Zubin have done this? His friend, Jess's godfather, the man who'd probably been more of a father figure to Jess than he had. He wanted to beat the living daylights out of Zubin for doing this, but he couldn't. As much as he desperately felt the need to do it, he knew that it wouldn't solve anything in the long run. As he walked home, he withdrew his wallet and examined its meagre contents. There wasn't even enough there to get into a casino, never mind to have anything to put on the wheel when he did so. This only seemed to make him more frustrated. He badly needed to do something stupid, something rash, something that might have an outside chance of making him feel better. When he reached his flat, he went through every drawer, every jacket or trouser pocket searching, searching for anything that resembled money, but there was nothing. Finding a CD that Jess had left here the last time she'd stayed, he put it on the stereo, remembering that the music had been angry, fraught, full of all the feelings he was currently experiencing. Evanescence wouldn't usually have been his cup of tea, but today, it fitted his mood entirely. He paced up and down, listening to the CD over and over again, trying to get his head round what Zubin had told him. Zubin, the father of Jess's baby. Zubin and Jess having sex. No, that was just wrong on so many levels. He didn't like to think of his little girl having sex with anybody, but especially not with someone who used to pay for it. Suddenly getting a hit of inspiration, he retrieved his stash of cannabis. If he couldn't gamble, he may as well try and get stoned. Dope was the only other thing that might calm him down. But as he dug out the necessary accoutrements to roll a joint, the doorbell rang. It had better not be the man himself, Ric thought as he went to the window, because he really would do him a serious injury if it were. He saw that it had started raining, the heavy droplets fogging up the glass. When he opened the window to look down on the street lamp outside the front door, he saw a familiar head of curly hair. "Come on, Ric," She called up to him when he'd opened the window. "It's pouring down out here." Smiling at her impatience, Ric went downstairs to let her in. 

"I thought you were Zubin," He said on opening the door. "Then in that case, I'm glad you checked," She said, moving into the hallway and shaking the rain out of her hair. "Because I'm quite fond of my face the way it is." "Have you come to read me the riot act?" He asked as they climbed the stairs. "No, I've hopefully come to stop you from reverting to an old habit. Is that all right?" Ric was momentarily thrown by her unequivocal answer, because he hadn't expected her to be so intuitive. "I'm not too late, am I?" She asked when he didn't reply. "Hardly," he said in disgust as they entered his flat. "I haven't got anything to gamble with until next week. Which reminds me, do you mind forgetting that you're my boss for this evening? Because I would quite like to smoke my joint without the threat of instant dismissal." "I'm sure I can turn a blind eye," Connie said, removing her jacket and draping it over a chair. "As long as you're willing to share, that is." "I didn't know you did," He said, pouring them both a glass of wine. "I haven't smoked cannabis for more years than I care to count," She said, sinking gratefully down onto the sofa. "But you're not the only one who could probably do with a very good bit of stress relief." "I heard about the board," He said, handing her the glass and moving back to the table to begin rolling the joint. "Well done." "Professor Khan wasn't too amused," She said, taking a sip of the wine. "Do you know why I gave him a black eye?" Ric asked, his hand shaking a little with anger. "Yes," Connie said quietly. "And you're wasting too much of that dope," She said, seeing that the fury in his hands was scattering it over the table. "Let me do it." He watched her as she carefully rolled the joint, without leaving a single bit out of the cigarette, though making sure there was plenty left if they felt like another. "Now," She said, reaching for his lighter and flicking the flame. "Take a good lungful of that, and start talking to me." They stood very close as she lit the joint for him, the softness of her face momentarily captured by the flame. 

"I don't really know where to start," He said after taking a drag, not having the faintest idea how to put what he was feeling into words. "Just open your mouth, and see what comes out," She encouraged, sitting back down on the sofa and watching him as he continued to pace with the joint in his hand. "I feel as though I'm always the last to know," He eventually began. "This isn't the first time Jess has kept something incredibly important from me, and it's not the first time she's got herself pregnant. One of Will's predecessors, Alex Adams, and the first I knew about that was when Owen had to operate on her because of complications with a termination. Then, not long after Christmas, I found out that some time last summer, Leo's girlfriend had a baby who died, because it was withdrawing from god knows what." "Leo's your eldest, isn't he," Connie clarified, wanting to understand the chronology of all this. "Yes, the eldest of nine, and a really good father I've obviously been," He said so bitterly that it made Connie inwardly wince. "Both Jess, and Zubin, thought that it would be better not to tell me. Even Sean knew about that before I did. I was so furious with Zubin over that, which is why I wasn't so pleased to see him when he came back. There is absolutely or was, absolutely nothing me and Zubin didn't know about each other before that, and it felt like the most unbearable breech of trust I could think of." As he passed the sofa, she reached up and plucked the joint from his hand, taking a long, slow hit for herself. "Hmm, not bad," She said, handing it back to him. "Ah well, I do get it from a highly reputable supplier," He said, before taking another drag of the cigarette. "Ric," Connie said with a short laugh. "Only you would describe a drug dealer as highly reputable." 

"I've known Zubin for over thirty years," Ric continued. "Ever since we started medical school together. He was the best man at two of my weddings, and I always used to think he was the best friend I ever had." It touched Connie painfully to hear him talking about Zubin like this, and to realise the full extent of what Zubin had so thoughtlessly betrayed. "So, when we eventually began speaking again, he promised me that never again would he keep something so important from me. I know I'm hardly one to talk, because every financial promise I've ever made in my life has been broken, but I stupidly thought that a promise like that would actually mean something. He's been desperately trying to talk to me all day, and then using any tiny excuse not to go through with it. But when he finally got round to it, I could see that he was determined to tell me, no matter what might get in the way. He dodged around the subject for a bit, trying to tell me in his typically euphemistic fashion. But when he said that Jess was having his baby, I felt as though I was dreaming, as if I was in the middle of some horrific nightmare. I asked him if this was some kind of sick joke, but I knew I was only clutching at straws. He tried to blame it on her, saying that she followed him to Paris, but when I asked him why he came back, he said that he loves her. This coming from a man who in his time has openly frequented prostitutes." "Stop right there," Connie said in total shock. "Oh, yeah," Ric said disgustedly. "As if this isn't bad enough, my daughter is having a baby to a man who used to pay for it by the hour, probably still does for all I know." "Whiter than white Professor Khan, a kerb crawler," Connie said meditatively. "I don't think he was ever that bad," Ric said in fairness, though he didn't know why he was bothering. "I've a feeling he stopped doing it when one of them turned up as a patient. But how could he, Connie? How could he sleep with my daughter? Zubin's been more of a father figure to Jess than I have. He's always been more reliable, always been the guiding influence, always been there for her when she hasn't been getting on with me. How could he abuse a trust like that?" "Ric," Connie said slowly. "It isn't in my nature to be remotely fair to Professor Khan, but I think there's something you might be missing. He may be a coward of the highest order, but I don't think he actually meant to hurt you." "I don't care what he did or didn't mean to do," Ric replied stonily. "It's what he did do that counts. What he did is just so wrong on so many levels, and I've got absolutely no idea what I'm supposed to do about it. I've been working it out, and it must have happened when I was over in Paris, with that patient who insisted on my accompanying him. It all makes sense now, the way Zubin was when I met up with him. He couldn't wait to get away from me, and barely batted an eyelid when I told him I'd been gambling again. In the old days, he'd have been possibly angry, maybe a little condemning because I'd used someone else's money, and probably somewhat supportive in his own way. But he acted as though he couldn't care less, and always seemed to be preoccupied with something else. I couldn't put my finger on it at the time, but that's what it must have been. I can't bear the fact that she must have been in that hotel with him the whole time, and I never knew a thing." Getting up from where she sat, Connie took his hand and led him over to the sofa, removing the end of the joint from his hand and stubbing it out in the ashtray. When she'd pulled him down beside her, she said, "Now you listen to me, working out when it happened, where it happened, or even what happened, isn't going to do you any good whatsoever. You cannot change what happened, no matter how much you might want to, but you can change how you deal with it. No matter how undecided Jess might be about a lot of things, she still needs you, because you are her father. Her approach might be incredibly misguided at times, but she does have your best interests at heart, so you mustn't punish her too severely for that." "I just don't understand what made him do it," Ric said, after taking in what she'd said to him. "Try a mid life crisis," Connie said succinctly. "I'm told we all have them." 

"Will you roll me another joint?" Ric asked after a few minutes silent contemplation. "I think I can manage that," She said with a soft smile, getting up to fulfill his simple request. "So," She said as she began preparing another cigarette. "Still feel like visiting the nearest casino?" "Sure," Ric said lightly, though she could hear the sincerity below the surface. "I can't decide which is the lesser evil, to abandon my pride and ask you if I can borrow fifty quid, or to fight the craving." "Well, you can't," She said curtly, glancing up at him. Then, seeing the brief look of hurt followed by the raising of all his barriers, she added a little more softly, "Ric, I wouldn't lend you fifty pence, the way you feel at the moment, because you'll feel far worse than you do now, if you give into it and come off the wagon." After rolling the joint, she lit it and took the first drag, returning to the sofa and handing it over. "Gambling would be the worst thing you could do right now," She told him gently. "Because on top of everything else, you'd probably end up feeling unbearably guilty." "Last year, when I finally decided to do something about it, Zubin gave me all these promises, of how he was going to be there for me, his words not mine. What a joke that was." 

Sitting there next to him, Connie had absolutely no idea how to help him. He was tormenting himself with images of his daughter and his one time friend in bed together, coupled with the realisation that the one person who may once have been a prop, had been irrevocably removed from his life. Zubin couldn't come back to the Griffin fold now even if he tried every good turn in the book. He was hurting unbearably, yet he couldn't even ask her for a hug, something he'd so readily given to her without a second thought over the last few days. Not entirely sure how he would take it, she slowly inched her way towards him, until she had her arms round him and her face very close to his. "That took some guts," He observed with a smile, putting his left arm around her shoulders. "And I thought it would have occurred to you by now, that providing comfort isn't something I am particularly good at." "You are, just by being here and letting me rant," Ric told her, incredibly touched by her honesty. They sat there quietly for a while, sharing the joint, but neither of them talking. Eventually, Ric broke the silence. "Can I tell you something I did today, something that looking back on it, I wish I hadn't done?" "Feel free," She said dryly, though she could see that he was a little apprehensive. "When me and Zubin were in theatre, Sean told us that Jess had agreed to marry him, and when Zubin didn't appear to be all that enthusiastic, I pointed out that he might have two things to celebrate later on. One being my daughter's engagement, and the other being the demise of Cruella De Beauchamp." "Oh, yeah," Connie said dismissively. "I've heard that one before." "I'm sorry," Ric told her, looking thoroughly contrite. "I shouldn't have said it." Connie laughed. "Ric, only you would apologize for something I neither heard, nor could give a damn about. There have been times when you definitely would have meant it, and even if this time was one of them, I really couldn't care less. There's just one thing though, if you are going to insult me either behind my back or to my face, please have the decency to be a little more creative. Cruella's one of my old favourites." Ric couldn't help breaking into a broad smile. "They used to call Chrissie Cruella, when she first came to Holby." "Tough," Connie said with a smirk. "I laid claim to that particular title long before she did." 

When Connie at last leaned away from him to stub the joint out in the ashtray, she said, "You're still very tense. That dope doesn't seem to have had any effect on you at all." "It doesn't sometimes," He said, holding her close to him, and taking simple comfort from having someone, anyone, in his arms. Hitting on something that might just help, Connie said, "Would you like a massage?" In that heavenly sultry voice that he knew he would never be able to refuse. "Are you serious?" He said into her hair, not having had something so delicious for years. "When am I ever anything else," She answered him dryly. "Then yes, if you are so determined to make me relax, I am hardly going to refuse," He told her, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear, his fingers lingeringly stroking her face. "Go on then," She said, gently detaching herself from him. "Strip." The command was so forthright, so firmly delivered, that Ric rose to obey without a second thought, trying to avoid her gaze as she sat and watched him, a delightfully predatory smirk playing over her face. When he was down to his boxers, she said, "go on, it's not as if I haven't seen it before." "There is something to be said for small mercies, I suppose," He replied, as she went into the bathroom to retrieve the massage oil that he said was in the bathroom cabinet. "And small has nothing to do with it," She said as she returned, to find him lying sprawled on his front, the duvet thrown back, and his face nestled in the soft pillows. He had his head turned to the side, and his eyes widened as she began to remove her dress. "You joining me?" He asked, his voice deeper with anticipation. "No," She replied, laying the dress over the back of a chair. "But I don't want to get oil on it." He watched her as she approached, wearing the simple, black lace underwear that was so sexy on her. 

At the first touch of her oil-covered hands on the back of his neck, Ric closed his eyes in complete submission. As long as she kept her hands moving just as they were, she could do whatever she liked to him, and he probably wouldn't even notice. She had been absolutely right to suggest a massage, because that, combined with the Annie Lenox CD he'd put on, were really beginning to have an effect on his rattled senses. They didn't speak as her hands worked on him, neither of them wanting to break the mood. The sultry, sexy scent of sandalwood permeated the air, and the music filled their contented silence. Her long, delicate fingers appeared to untangle the jumbled pieces of muscle, and put them back together like a jigsaw, leaving them feeling supple, agile, and thoroughly flexible once more. She progressed from the back of his neck to his shoulders, the knots here being the most taught she'd ever come across. He occasionally shifted under her ministrations, the only sign of vague discomfort he ever betrayed. "Does that hurt?" She asked him once, as she gave him a particularly vigorous dig. "They say that some pain is pleasurable," He replied, his voice as rich and dark as the finest claret. When she moved onto his back, her hands smoothing away every crick, every ache he may have had, he groaned in total ecstasy. "Will you marry me?" He asked her, thinking that if she would do this for him every now and then, a fifth marriage really would be worth the hassle. "No," She replied with a smile, dropping a light kiss on his shoulder. "I wouldn't want to give up my extremely free, and as some might say, incredibly easy lifestyle." Laughing softly, Ric began picturing her there behind him, wearing nothing but that cleverly constructed bra, and the tiniest, most pointless pair of knickers he'd ever seen, and using her hands on him to perfection. He could feel the effect she was having on him, but not being sure that this was the result she wanted, he tried to think of anything that might suppress his reaction. But when she moved onto the backs of his thighs, he couldn't remain quiet any longer. "Do you have any idea what you're doing to me?" "It's the sandalwood that's doing that, not my hands," She said matter-of-factly, though knowing it was probably a bit of both. "Don't you believe it," Ric told her with utter certainty. When she'd finished massaging his calves, she told him to turn over. He kept his eyes closed, part of him wanting to prolong the intensity of only knowing what she was doing by touch, and the rest of him wanting to avoid her smirk at his arousal. 

Connie couldn't take her eyes off him as she massaged the front of his thighs. She wouldn't have forgotten in a million years what it had been like to have something so substantial inside her, but to be given the opportunity for further examination was something of a wonder for her. Could she do it, she asked herself. Could she successfully fellate something quite so large? When he felt the delicate trail of butterfly kisses she gave him from tip to base, his eyes snapped open in shock. "Connie," He said, laying a hand on her shoulder. "Sh," She said, gently removing his hand and briefly holding it down to the bed. "Just relax." Knowing that she certainly wouldn't be doing this unless she really wanted to, he took her at her word. When she deftly sucked each testicle in turn between her soft, full lips, he thought he really had died and gone to heaven. It was longer than he cared to remember, since a woman had done this for him, and never, ever with such skill. She ran the very tip of her tongue the length of his shaft, before gently guiding the head between her lips. God, he was so smooth, so clean, that she knew she was going to enjoy every minute of it. Her cheek rested on his right hip, with her right hand moving luxuriously up and down, and her tongue flicking over him as if he were a particularly illegal ice-lolly. His fingers occasionally ran through her hair, or rested on her shoulder, solicitously playing with her bra strap. When she relaxed her throat muscles, and took as much of him into her mouth as possible, he sucked in a breath of sheer pleasure, the feeling of it like nothing he'd ever felt before. She took her time over him, trying to find a rhythm that was comfortable for her, and that made his satisfaction begin to spiral out of control. When his hand gently tugged on her hair to get her attention, she realised he was approaching the turning point, of whether to let her continue as she was, or to achieve his release in some other way. But when she completely ignored him, he said her name, but yet again she refused to heed him, using her left hand to hold his right down to the bed, making it clear that she was definitely going to take him all the way like this. As for most men, it had been extremely rare for him that a woman was prepared to do this, but it seemed that Connie was one who would. He could feel her hand begin to speed up as his breathing quickened, his entire being centred in on her hand and her mouth, as if nothing else mattered, which in this moment, it really didn't. He stifled a cry of ecstasy as he came, digging his fingers into the mattress, feeling her mouth contracting around him as she swallowed every drop, her tongue removing every lasting trace. 

When he finally opened his eyes, he watched as she swiftly knocked back her glass of wine, clearly trying to get rid of the taste. All he did was to gaze at her, this beautiful, incredible woman who had, in her efforts to take his mind off of what had happened today, just given him the most sensational display of oral he'd ever been fortunate enough to take part in. He watched her as she lay down beside him, putting her arms round him and still in her underwear. When she softly kissed him, he could see a look of such gentleness in her eyes that it made him want to hold her to him for ever, and never let her go. "What brought that on?" He asked, his voice all the more gravelly with satisfaction. "I felt like it," She said simply. "Besides, it achieved my goal, didn't it?" "Talk about the understatement of the century." Then, seeing a look of slight uncertainty in his face, she said, "Ric, I wouldn't have done that if I didn't want to do it, so please don't look at me like that." "I'm relieved to hear it," He told her seriously. When he reached to undo her bra, she let him relieve her of her underwear, but didn't attempt to get him to touch her. She seemed perfectly happy to exchange gently lingering kisses with him, to lie contented in his arms, rather than to head for her own peak of release. When he began to softly stroke the side of her breast, her hand closed over his. "No," She told him quietly. "You wouldn't like me to return the favour?" He asked, knowing that there was nothing he'd like better than to do that for her. "No," She said again, now looking a little shy, and very much off her usual territory. "I'm in the mood for giving, but not for receiving," She clarified. "Who'd have thought it," She added, her tone sounding incredibly brittle. "Cruella De Beauchamp gone right off sex." "It happens," He told her gently, putting his arms back round her to give her the comforting embrace she so obviously needed. When she shivered slightly, he reached for the duvet, pulling it over them and cuddling himself round her. "Better?" He asked, softly stroking her shoulder. "Yes," She said quietly, feeling as though this wasn't really her lying here, having just refused a delicacy she didn't get anywhere near often enough, and briefly wondering where the old Connie Beauchamp had gone. They lay there for a long time not talking, simply listening to the CD and distracted by their thoughts. Eventually, Connie was the one to speak. "You do know," She said carefully. "That I am probably going to have to go official about you hitting Professor Khan?" "I know," Ric said regretfully. "But if I can survive Anton Meyer verbally wiping the floor with me, I think I can survive the same with you." "That's different," She told him concernedly. "You weren't sleeping with Anton Meyer." "Am I sleeping with you?" He asked, his lips quirking upwards into a smile. "You know what I mean," She said, not willing to get into this discussion right now. "I have to be completely professional about your fight with Zubin, but that doesn't mean I don't thoroughly understand why you did it." "Connie, you don't need to explain this to me," He said with a smile. "Like you, I have absolutely no idea what we're doing, or where it's going, or even if it is going anywhere. Yes, I did get my fingers well and truly burnt last June, but I'm not about to do that again." "I knew I was hot, Mr. Griffin, but I didn't know my juices were really in danger of scalding anyone." "Oh, very funny," He said drolly. "The point is, we have both got far too much to deal with at the moment, without worrying about something that either will or won't happen in its own time. I haven't even begun to deal with the shock that Zubin gave me today, and you haven't begun to deal with Will's death. I would like to be able to give you the title of friend, but I'm not even sure that such a word is relevant for either of us." "Except where work is concerned, I prefer not to have titles," She said, thinking that something had made him grow up over the last ten months. She wasn't sure what, but he was dealing with her in a far more mature fashion than he had done in the beginning, something she couldn't help but respect. As they drifted off to sleep, the CD coming to the end of its final playing, Connie's last thought was right here in this bed. Not with her husband, as it perhaps should have been, not with another man, but here, with Ric, and with herself. He was right, they did both have an immensely long road to travel, whether that be together or apart, but for this one night, and perhaps others in the future, they could put their heartaches aside, and take comfort in each other's arms, their words to the other finally seeming to have found an equal path through their well constructed barriers. 


End file.
